


You Construct Intricate Rituals-

by princeymarmar



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Intricate Rituals, M/M, Nonbinary Celice | Seliph, Nonbinary Character, Other, Pre-Relationship, Sharing a Bed, implied background Fee/Tine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:46:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25417900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princeymarmar/pseuds/princeymarmar
Summary: The day Seliph and the Liberation Army unite with Prince Leif's army, they discover they have a bit of an odd problem - they're short a few beds for the night. Thankfully, this is a problem that can be solved by drawing lots for who has to double up! Thankfully, that is, until random chance decides to match Seliph with the guy who wanted them dead, like, less than a few days ago.This can only go well!
Relationships: Aless | Ares/Celice | Seliph, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	You Construct Intricate Rituals-

**Author's Note:**

> So at one point this was going to be a three chapter story structured like Introduction Plot Setup > Seliphares chapter > Feetinny chapter. But then I didn't finish this for a couple years and, well, I had the first bit, and most of the Seliphares bit, and none of Feetinny, so I scrapped that one for now just so I could push this out into the world. Maybe some day I will return to it? Maybe. If you want to write your own "butch lesbian Fee and bi Tine fumble through a crush on each other while having to share a bed" fic inspired by this then be my guest I guess.

“Okay. Well,” Seliph begins, addressing their army with a very sheepish smile. “So, we kind of, we have a little bit of a problem here, you see.”

They pause for a moment, and, oops, what they just said sends a wave of anxious whispers rippling through the crowd. They immediately clarify. “As you may know, thanks to our recent merge with Prince Leif's army, the Liberation Army has gained a lot of new members! This is wonderful! Unfortunately, um, we are now also kind of short two beds.”

The crowd flies into an uproar, and Seliph waves their hands in an attempt to quiet them. “Now - now I know that may sound quite alarming! But we would have been short even more, if not for the people who quite generously offered to share their beds already.”

Oifey and Shannan, aware of the problem even before the announcement, nod solemnly - sparking more than a few confused glances in their direction because, wait, weren't they already literally _married?_ Had they _not_ been sharing a bed before!?

Lester and Delmud also nod, Delmud looking quite bright and oblivious while Lester tries very desperately to hide his reddening face and stay out of Finn’s line of sight. Several people in the army raise their eyebrows, and more than a few pass gold between themselves, bets on whether or not tonight would be the night Delmud _finally_ realized.

“Unfortunately, we're still short two beds,” Seliph continues, once more giving the crowd an apologetic smile. “And unfortunately, we're too far away from any towns to reasonably travel to one, buy more beds, and return. So, we've come up with a solution for that! Unless anyone else wishes to volunteer, right now, to share their beds with someone else, we will be drawing lots, to figure out who gets to share beds with who - whom - with each other.”

They fold their hands together, idly tapping their fingers as they wait for a response. The crowd remains silent, shifting on their feet; no further volunteers come forward. “Of course, I will be participating as well,” they clarify, still looking a little sheepish. “It's only fair. Everyone who isn't already sleeping with someone else has an equal chance at sharing their beds.” From a table beside them, Seliph picks up a bundle of straw, equal in number to the people not yet sharing a bed.

“Good luck, everyone!” they announce, before reaching into the bundle themself, and drawing the shortest straw.

* * *

In the end, the rest of the short straws go to Ares, Fee, and Tine. The look on Ares’ face upon realizing he'd drawn a short straw was too dark to read properly, but was somewhere approaching “murderous”. Tine, for her part, looked mostly embarrassed, her face turning a brilliant shade of red while her mouth opened and closed.

“Well,” says Seliph, still dazedly staring at their own short straw. “I guess. I guess now’s the time to decide who sleeps with. Each other.”

Ares jerks his head in the direction of Fee and Tine, a wild and desperate look in his eye. Arthur, standing just behind the two, vigorously shakes his head.

 _Lesbian_ , he mouths, pointing at Fee. _Into girls_ , he mouths, pointing at his sister. His arms cross in front of him, and he points at both girls. _Thinks she's cute._

Ares doesn't know how to argue with that, so he turns instead towards Lene, eyes pleading - but Lene just shrugs her shoulders and shakes her head, fixing him with quite a firm stare. A fleeting look of betrayal darts over his face, before he turns back to face Seliph with a scowl icy enough to lower the room’s temperature by a few degrees. Seliph, for their part, had the dignity to at least look intimidated, sinking into their shirt collar just a bit.

“W-well, folks! That's that! Um. Good night, to everyone?”

And of course, while no one planned to sleep immediately, the rest of the army slinks away, whispering to each other about their bets on how the night would go.

Fingers crossed the leader of the Liberation Army would be alive and in one piece tomorrow!

* * *

Seliph's tent is the largest in the army - not excessively so, but it's certainly larger than the tents surrounding it. It's draped in richly patterned fabrics that wouldn't be out of place in the camp of an Isaachian nomad; at its peak, the flag of the Liberation Army waves idly in an ever-present breeze. Oifey had been the one to insist on making it stand out, saying that it was “traditional” for Grannvalean lords to have the largest and fanciest tents when they were out on campaign. Seliph and Shannan had both united against this idea, Shannan stating that a loud and ostentatious tent would only make it easier for any assassins sent to kill the leader of the Liberation Army and true heir to the throne of Granvalle. Seliph had almost felt foolish for their reason being “I don't want to be the center of attention, especially in a group of friends that I consider my equals.”

In the end, they reached the compromise of “a slightly larger tent, decorated in the style of Isaach, so I don't ever forget the people who helped me and hid me all these years.” Shannan had been exceptionally pleased with that idea, and that was how they received their tent.

Right now, though, Seliph regrets not arguing back harder against Oifey. They sneak furtive glances at Ares every few seconds, wondering what he must be thinking. Their mind races with possibilities, everything from 'what if he thinks I’m some sort of noble _snob_ ' to 'what if he thinks I’m stealing Isaachian aesthetics' to 'oh gods what if he thinks I’m an uncaring noble snob who purposefully steals aesthetics from other cultures to be fancy!?'

Ares, for his part, seems relatively unconcerned with the tent. He definitely looks at it once, true, but he doesn’t _say_ anything about it, and it's just as possible that he isn't really _thinking_ anything about it, either. Seliph hopes he isn't.

"You know," they say, belatedly, a nervous energy crackling through them, "didn't - didn't you have your own tent? I thought you brought your own tent with you. You don't… maybe there was a miscalculation, and we forgot about yours, and-"

Ares shakes his head, cutting them off before they can finish. "Lene is taking it tonight," he explains. Seliph frowns, curious.

"But… why not share with her, then?"

Ares pauses. "She... made it clear that she thought backing out of this," and he gestures at the entry flap of Seliph's tent, just before him, "wasn't something I should do. It is her tent tonight."

Seliph's frown deepens, and they squint at Ares. "But… it's your tent? It's literally your tent? You own it? You are letting her push you out of your own tent?"

Ares glares at them, and they backtrack. "Like, it's very noble of you - I won't deny that! It's very nice of you to let her have your whole tent. But also it is literally your tent."

Ares chooses to ignore this, and pushes into Seliph's tent; Seliph, seeing no reason to linger outside, follows. Inside, they find him glancing around at their sparse decor, expression neutral - which for Ares included a furrowed brow that made him look frustrated. Seliph ducks past him, hoping that he's not bothered by the way their clothes brush, and sits down on the edge of their bed to remove their boots, gloves, belt and sword. A few moments later, Are sits on the other side of the bed, and follows suit.

Once they're both rid of anything too bulky for sleep, they both stand back up, and stare at the bed between them. “I can take the floor.”

They both whip their heads up to stare at each other, blinking owlishly in shock. Ares is the first to recover. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “I was a mercenary. I have slept in much harder and more uncomfortable places than a tent floor. I'm very well-accustomed to it. Besides, you’re the leader of the Army, and this is your bed.”

Seliph waves their hands. "Please! Like I haven't slept in some hard places myself," they say, even though immediately after they say it they realize they can't remember any. "Besides! That's all the more reason for you to take my bed - you, who have spent so much time in hard and uncomfortable places, deserve some softness. And I'm nothing if not a good host! It'd be bad manners to let a guest sleep on the floor."

… _Have_ they ever hosted someone before!? Ares stares at them, squinting slightly, and Seliph fights the urge to shrink under the scrutiny. Eventually, Ares shakes his head, crosses over to Seliph's side of the bed, and scoops them up into his arms, right before tossing them onto the bed. Seliph squawks indignantly. "I am not fighting you over this - of _all_ things. It is _your_ bed. I will be fine on the floor."

With that, he starts to turn from them, but Seliph has dogged determination when it comes to all things Ares (wait, what?) and surprisingly fast reflexes, and their hands manage to fist in Ares' coat before he can get far from them. "Oh no, you don't," they say, tugging firmly at the coat. Ares wavers for a moment, struggling to break free of their grip. Eventually, though - perhaps used to collapsing in the face of similarly dogged determination from Lene, or maybe just because he was fond of his coat and didn't want it to tear - he caves in and steps backwards, eventually sitting down on the edge of the bed. Seliph yanks him into a laying position, and, quite reluctantly, Ares ends up entirely on Seliph's bed.

"Thank you," says Seliph, smoothing the front of his coat for him. "That wasn't so bad, was it? Now, then, just let me-"

They start to get up from the bed themself, but this time Ares catches _them_ by the shirt. His grip is definitely stronger than theirs, and Seliph squeaks, settling back down. "No, you don't," says Ares, staring them down. "I told you. Your bed. You are staying here."

Immediately after, he tries to get up from the bed, and Seliph has to throw an arm around his shoulders to keep him down. "Ah, ah!" they say, waving a free finger in his face. "As I told _you_. You are staying here, too."

They lay there for a long time, staring into each other's eyes and waiting for the other to break - until it dawns on both of them, simultaneously, that they are still clinging to each other. They immediately launch apart, comically pushing themselves the one centimeter apart from each other Seliph’s bed allows and rolling onto their other side so they don’t have to face each other.

"Well then. Good night," Ares tells them, somehow managing to pull himself under their blanket. Seliph stays on top of them, feeling too electrically charged by… all of that, to risk touching Ares again.

"Good night," they echo, before burying their face in their arms and trying to sleep. Their mind still races against them, though, and in the end they lie awake for hours, unable to calm their thoughts.  
If the way Ares breathes is any indication, though, they think he has just as much trouble getting to sleep.

* * *

Seliph wakes relatively early in the morning, their first thought being _I need to take a piss._

Unfortunately for them, something very large and very strong has currently wrapped itself very tightly around their chest, and their back rests against a very solid, very warm wall. Thankfully for them, though, it's a pretty cozy wall, and very blearily they admit to themself that at least it's not _too_ bad being trapped on the bed.

It takes them a few minutes to process that this wall of warmth that's currently preventing their escape is Ares.

They lay very still for the next half hour, until Ares begins to stir behind them, shifting and burying his face into their back. “I won't breathe a word of this to anyone, if you don't,” they murmur.

Ares responds with a tired groan, and squeezes them closer. Seconds pass. Slowly, as the reality of what's going on sinks in, Ares starts to tense - and then suddenly he jerks back as though shocked, settling as far away from Seliph as he can manage on the narrow bed. He doesn't look at Seliph again after that, arms crossed firmly across his chest, and when Seliph comes back after finally taking that piss, their bed is empty. It's fine, really, they think with an easy shrug. Ares wasn't _obligated_ to stick around, or anything.

Still, if they lay down for a few extra moments in the spot where he was, soaking up his remaining warmth from the bed - that's nobody's business but their own.


End file.
